


At Your Service!

by relictionism (orphan_account)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gift Work, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Shot, Persona 5 Spoilers, THE MAID CAFE FIC, akira is a maid for the day, flustered goro all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/relictionism
Summary: When Class 2-D needs a backup maid for the school's cultural festival, Akira Kurusu is there to save the day!Why does he look convincingly female, though?His mission: Mess with Goro Akechi, who just stepped in through the door and totally doesn't recognise him.





	At Your Service!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JokerTheBully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JokerTheBully/gifts).



> a one-shot maid cafe fic whose prompt belongs to my friend Umi (@JokerTheBully)  
> i hope you're happy with what i've created :^))

“Akira?! Is that really _you_?!”

“ _Very_ nice!”

“How do you manage to _pull that off_?”

“Akira, you look very cute!”

“A versatile man, indeed..”

“Our leader truly _is_ a Jack of all trades.”

Akira Kurusu took all of the Phantom Thieves’ (minus Morgana’s) comments with the calmest of expressions, unbothered as shown by his signature poker face. He shrugged at their reactions, and afterwards swung an arm with feline grace to showcase Class 2-D’s decorated classroom, the little costume he wore fitting _right_ into the Maid Café theme of their class’ booth.

“Welcome home, Masters and Mistresses!” he greeted, smile suddenly bursting onto his cheeks as he _curtsied_ with hands folded over in front of his skirt, “Allow me to bring you to your table, so if you would please follow me.”

With heels clicking across the wooden floor of the classroom, he led Futaba, Ann, Ryuji, Haru, Makoto and Yusuke to a table beside the windows, where a white-pink tablecloth was spread over the surface and six seats were gathered around. When they’d all settled into the chairs, Akira stood over them, a cute little smile playing on his lips as he _beamed_ at them with menus in his arms, like a happy little maid glad to welcome her masters back.

Circling the table, he gave each of them a menu card.

“What would you like for lunch today? We have a variety of food and beverages ready for you in today’s menu, so please feel free to choose whatever you’d like.”

Akira gestured towards the small, golden bell sitting in the middle of the table, right beside a glass vase of flowers and carefully-folded napkins.

“When you’re ready to tell us your orders please ring the bell to summon us, as per the usual protocol.”

Akira curtsied once more, bowing his head. He was _acutely aware_ of the stares he gathered from his friends, all of them having varying degrees of interest and disbelief (except for Ann, who looked absolutely _pleased_.)

 “If you’ll excuse me then, Masters, Mistresses— I will be leaving you to decide.”

Akira began striding back towards the front of the classroom, casual and nonchalant. With each step he took, the two-inch heels he wore made small, muffled clicks on the wooden floor, and he’d be _damned_ if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

Clicking heels made him feel _powerful_.

“This is _legit. maid cafe. shit_.” He heard Futaba say.

“Yo, this ain’t a dream, right? I’m actually seein’ this?”

Akira watched Futaba hit Ryuji across the head.

“Not a dream, nope.”

And a dream, it actually wasn’t this time.

The Cultural Festival at Shujin Academy had arrived rather quickly, and Ann and Akira’s class had unanimously decided on the simplest thing they could do— Which was, as it turned out, a maid café that served the local bakery’s pastries and baked goods, and instant coffee (a personal offence to Akira at that point, really.)

Unfortunately for Class 2-D, though, one of their chosen maids got sick two days before the festival began, and with her fever raging on at three days and counting, the class scrambled to find another maid.  
Most of his classmates already had plans for the festival, and with really no other choice between _volunteering and keeping the booth going_ , or _not volunteering and letting the booth shut down_ altogether due to the traffic not having enough maids would cause, Akira chose the former to save both his grades _and_ his class.

And so, with a frilly and ribbon-y headband strapped to a long, curly wig on his scalp that reached his waist (courtesy of one of their classmates being an avid cosplayer) he dressed up in one of the maid costumes their class had rented.  
It honestly came as a surprise to him when the dress fit well on his build, the short, puffy sleeves making his arms look less bulky and more lean; the silhouette coupled with the apron making his figure look curvier than it actually was (puffy skirts with white ribbons were a miracle); the ribbon tied around his neck hiding his Adam’s apple; and with the frilly armbands on his wrists that just _completed_ the look, Akira was ready to be Class 2-D’s replacement maid.

Oh, and frills. Frills were _everywhere_ on his outfit and Akira liked how they’d brush against his skin, especially the little space where his thigh-high stockings couldn’t cover.

Akira looked and felt _cute_ and he honestly enjoyed it more than he thought he would, _especially_ after one of the girls (Ann) swiped a gentle shade of pink lipstick on his lips and brushed mascara up his eyelashes.

He had to do a double-take when he saw himself in the mirror, even taking off the fake glasses he wore to make sure he was seeing straight because that _cute_ piece of ass couldn’t have been him.

But it was— It was Akira staring back at himself in the mirror, absolutely admiring the way his skirt would fly up whenever he spun too quickly.  
Girls usually had this leg freedom? And he’d _never_ experienced it before until that day? It was unfair, really.

But could anyone really tell that he was _Akira Kurusu_ when he himself couldn’t even initially believe his own eyes? Amazing what a good wig and some makeup did.

“Welcome home, Master!”

Akira glanced over to the door when one of his fellow maids greeted a new customer, only pursing his lips into a thin line seeing red eyes examine the classroom.

Goro Akechi stood there, looking over everything in their maid café with a hand on his chin and with a curious glint in his eyes. Akira’s heart began to race when Akechi’s gaze finally landed on _him_ , and could only offer a bright smile to the man.

Akechi didn’t look twice at him, but maybe it was because of the faint pink dusting up the brunette’s cheeks— Or was it that he didn’t think a maid (who he didn’t personally know) smiling at him was par for the course in a _maid_ _café_?

Did Goro Akechi (the man who he _knew_ wanted to arrest and/or murder him) really not recognise Akira?

Akira could only watch, hands folded politely, as Akechi was led to a table for two.  
Maybe his staring would only come across as him wanting to be ever-alert at the hustle and bustle of their maid café, maybe it was because he wanted Akechi to look at him again— Akira wouldn’t let himself dwell on the thought more, but he was definitely leaning towards wanting Akechi to check him out.

The ring of a small bell caught his attention, and Akira shifted his gaze over to the Thieves. He padded back over to them, only giving Akechi a quick glance when he passed by.

“Have you decided on your orders?” he asked, tone bright and cheerful.

Honestly, working as a maid in the café felt natural to him, as someone who worked in an _actual_ café every day. When he was given the group’s individual orders, his mind was quick to memorise _who_ wanted _what_ , and was soon gathering the baked goods at the table in the other corner of the room, where they stationed the food with coffee cups, sachets of instant coffee, and three thermoses of warm water.

Akira carried the tray full of cakes and coffee back to his friends, one hand easily holding up the board as he set down each of their orders in front of them. When Akira was done, he held the tray with both hands, a happy smile rising up from the corners of his lips after he’d bowed.

“Enjoy your meal!”

All this smiling was going to make his cheeks hurt after the day ended.

Akira had turned on his heel and was about to head back to the front to await the next batch of customers, when the maid who’d handled Akechi called out to him.

“Aki-chan!”

The girl was padding quickly towards him, a hand waving up to get his attention.

“What is it, Yamamoto?” he asked, a polite smile adorning his features— which he’d contorted to be as _gentle-looking_ as he could.

“Master Akechi wants you to serve him, so can you please?”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

The chance of a lifetime had presented itself to him— That was, mess with Goro Akechi. When could he ever say no?

“Of course! I’ve got it, Yamamoto. Thanks!”

When the girl bowed her thanks to him, Akira began to walk ( _slowly_ , because he wanted to take his time here) to Akechi’s table, all while the man himself was looking at him up and down, hands folded on the table. Akira made sure to sway his hips, made himself look as _delectable_ as he could.

In his head, he wore the most _satisfied_ grin when the Detective Prince looked down onto the tablecloth. Akira caught pink tinting his cheeks again.

**_Yeah_** _, like the look, Akechi?_

He hoped his smile hadn’t morphed into a smirk yet.

Akira bowed as soon as he stood beside Akechi, locked their eyes when he’d rose, and, flashing his toothiest grin, he greeted his ‘master’ without the high, girly voice that made his throat hurt— which he’d been using the entire day thus far. Still, he opted to keep the spirits high and the cute persona up.

“Yes, _Master Akechi_?”

The sight of Goro Akechi in that moment had to be the most priceless thing in existence. He hoped that the Thieves a little ways off were at least taking a picture.

Knowing Futaba, she most likely had it on video, too.

Akechi’s eyes widened to the size of a coffee cup saucer the moment Akira spoke, brows raising high with his jaw slackened. His mouth was open, moving as if he were speaking (or at least, searching for the right words) though his voice hadn’t (see: _wouldn’t_ ) come out.

“A— Akira Kurusu?!” the man sputtered, and Akira almost wanted to laugh at how visibly _tight_ he clenched his hands together, imagined his knuckles turning white as bones under his gloves.

**_Breathe_** _, Akira. Keep up the maid act. Do it. **Don’t laugh**._

“Your dear maid, _Aki-chan_ is at your service, _Master Akechi_! What would you like for lunch today? Coffee? Tea? Or, maybe..”

Akira almost broke the act, almost let himself go off in a laughing fit when he put one gently-curled hand up against his cheek as he added, voice intentionally shy and breathless, “.. _Me_?”

The shade of Akechi’s face matched his eyes, red spreading quickly to the tips of his ears and down his neck. Akira took _immense_ satisfaction seeing him flush up at his words.

“Just— Just one _coffee_ , please,” Akechi coughed, gaze shifting down to his hands on the table. His cheeks were still as red as ever, so Akira only bowed once and nodded. The shit-eating, faux-polite grin lighting up his features stretched wide.

“Right away, _Master_.”

Kawakami would be so proud of him for keeping up his maid manners.

When Akira turned on his heel to walk back to the food table, he made sure to do it quick enough for his skirt to ride up, knew that it would take _minimal_ wind for more than his stockings and thighs to be exposed.

Akira heard a choked noise come from behind him as he began striding away, tray in hand and a grin blown wide on his cheeks. He made the instant coffee as quickly as he could and took it back out to Akechi.

Though, as he walked over to the detective, an idea popped into his head.

He ‘tripped’ over his heel when he was near Akechi, effectively knocking the cup back and spilling the warm coffee all over his skirt.

“ _Oh no_!” he cried, setting the tray down on the nearest possible table (the one right in front of Akechi) before he grabbed at his coffee-stained skirt and lifted it up, squeezing the coffee out of the fabric.

He would glance, very briefly, up at the man he was actively showing his _black, lace underwear_ to.

Akira shot his head up at Akechi, throwing his skirt back down in the same breath with a ‘horrified’ look painted all over his features. The detective’s face flushed an even darker shade of red than before.

“I’m so sorry, Master! It was an accident! I think I may have broken my heel..” Akira fretted, running over and bowing deeply to him.

With his head down, though, he didn’t stop himself from grinning.

“I hope I didn’t spill anything on you! Please, if you feel the need to _punish me_ ”—Akira almost laughed again when he put heavy emphasis on the words—“I’ll accept it!”

“ _NO_!”

 _How much can you handle, Detective Prince?_  
Akira was laughing his sides off in his head.

“No, no punishment necessary! Are you alright?”

Akira slid the ‘regretful, helpless maid’ mask back onto his face, finally raising his head and looking back at Akechi. He nodded fervently before looking back down onto his dress.

“I’m alright, but my uniform..”

Just then, Yamamoto sped over to Akira, worry visible in her features.

“Aki-chan, are you alright?”

“No worries, Yamamoto. I’m fine, but my skirt is _ruined_ ,” Akira mourned, his lips pulled down into a sad little frown.

The girl shoved a rag into his hands, which Akira accepted gratefully. She beamed up at him.

“We’ll take care of the mess here so go get cleaned up in the bathroom. Maybe you’ll still be able to get it off, Aki-chan, so cheer up!”

Akira nodded, bowing to her in thanks before he turned for the door.

“I’ll go with him to help clean it.”

Akira looked back over his shoulder, pleased to see red eyes staring back at his.

* * *

 

Akira was holding the rag under running water when he heard the door of the bathroom click locked. Squeezing the excess water off the cloth, he began rubbing it against the stains in his skirt, a grin rising up his cheeks when Goro approached him, steps almost _too_ quick.

“That was the ballsiest move you’ve ever pulled, _Aki-chan_.”

A laugh dripped off Akira’s lips, right as his breath was knocked out of his chest. Goro had pushed him against the tiles of the bathroom wall, hands on his shoulders, and Akira had dropped the moist rag beside his heels.

He looked into Goro’s red eyes, burning aflame with a thinly-veiled carnal desire that mirrored his own.

“ _Aw_ , is _Master Akechi_ going to punish me for it now?” he teased, voice going high.

“It’s ‘ _Your Highness_ ,’ in case you’ve forgotten,” Goro shot back, pure _dominance_ lacing his tone. Akira felt warmth pool deep below his stomach.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re hot when you look mad at me like that.”

Goro pushed him down by the shoulders, all until Akira was on his knees in front of the man. He looked up at the detective eagerly, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“ _You_ need to shut up and use your mouth the best way you know how. I’m punishing you later tonight, so leave the door to Leblanc unlocked again. You’re getting the handcuffs for your little stunt today, Akira Kurusu.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi ! hey hello it me, i haven't updated m&m yet, i know, but here's a cute one-shot that my friend prompted to me a few days ago !  
> idk why but i felt like i needed to add that little bathroom bit at the end there. maybe this'll turn into a series of one-shots regarding their antics as secret sex buddies ? lmao  
> (actually, that's a bit more likely now that i think of it that way, o h) 
> 
> anyway ! if you want actual shuake smut, i actually posted a shuake smut fic at the same time i posted this ! it's a prompt i've had in mind for a while now and i wanted to practise writing smut for m&m a n d get the idea out to you guys in one go, so Cigarette Smoke is that thing ! here's a link !  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859438
> 
> also, if you wanna see potential fics i've thought of/me hinting at fics i m a y post, you can follow my twitter @relictionism  
> i tweet about my suffering as i hit writer's block there too, or things regarding my writing, so yeah ! :^D  
> thanks for reading !


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